Welcome to St. Mark's Faith Story Journal. Here you will find articles written by our clergy and parishioners on faith and discipleship.

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Kaye Kawahara. I serve on the Vestry of St. Mark's and also on the Finance Committee. I’m a practicing oncologist - that is a cancer doctor.

I had been away from church for many years, and when I wanted to come back I looked at several parishes close to home. When I first came to St. Marks I saw Father Sasaki, who had baptized me and confirmed me into the Church when I was a student at ‘Iolani School. I saw Mr. Lee and Les Uyehara whom I had known since childhood. I saw Nanette Judd who I’d gotten to know while taking care of her mom, Violet. I met Father Paul who I thought was amazing, and I’ve been here ever since.

In my career I’ve been a scientist doing stem cell research and a physician. I see the wonder of God’s creation under the microscope, in the sequences of DNA I’ve studied, and in front of me in the form of my patients and their lives. I’ve witnessed amazing things and seen extraordinary lives unfold. I see the hand of God everywhere, in the earth and in our lives. I am able to agree with many of my patients that, yes, thanks be to God.

Usually I’m on the observation sides of things, a spectator or witness if you may. Last June I was on the receiving side.

I was on my annual fishing trip to the Green River in Utah with a group of buddies. We had made this trip annually for the last 25 years, always fishing with the same guide, Pat, who had grown older with us and become a dear friend. We had seen some drama over the years, but mostly had uneventful floats down the river. This year was different. Because of a record snow pack, the river was running at 2 to 4 times its normal flow. It looked and fished like Niagara Falls-terrible! If we had been locals we would have packed up and gone home.

On the third day things got worse. I was fishing with my friend Jeff and our guide Pat. I was in the front and Jeff was in the back. We were about to enter a section of the river called Red Creek Rapids. It’s normally an exciting ride, but that day it was wild. As we entered the rapids a gust of wind blew us sideway into the path of a rock the size of a minivan. We grounded on the rock and eventually capsized from the back. I was launched from the front, and we all went in. After I came to the surface I saw the overturned boat, but not my friends. I was in the middle of the rapid and had no chance to reach shore. Just as I had resigned myself to having to ride it out to softer water or drown, a voice called out to me from my left: "grab my oar and I’ll take you to shore." I knew that I was probably alive as Jesus would have told me to grab his hand. This was someone else-namely a kayaker. I held on to his stern hook, and he took me to shore. He told me that he was a roughwater rescuer here on a once a year certification course, and he thanked me for the opportunity to rescue me. On shore I was checked out by a paramedic from Spain also taking the course. She thanked me as well, and told me that this was to be their only day on this part of the river. Eventually Jeff and Pat joined me, and we all gave thanks for our survival. We were bruised and hypothermic, but otherwise fine.

Jeff broke down in tears. I asked him why, and he told me that he had thought that I had surely drowned. Pat had told him the instant I was launched that “Kaye’s gone.” Jeff told me his story later that night. He had been dragged down with the boat and couldn’t get free because his leg had been entangled in the anchor rope. He had come to accept that this was to be his end. Just then the rope loosened and he bobbed to the surface. Jeff, a lifelong Methodist, had recently joined the Episcopal Church in Cheyenne, Wyoming. I’m not saying this helped our cause, but it certainly didn’t hurt!

The three of us were recipients of God’s grace that day, and when you think about it, this is true every day of our lives. Being a part of St. Mark's helped me to see that grace, and for this I am very grateful for St. Mark's. It is here that I learn to see God at work in my life.

Stewardship Stories Journal Contents

Linnea Tokushige offers the story of her faith, as well as how St. Mark’s helps her grow in Christ. In this video she traces her faith back to her grandmother and father, striving to make the faith her own today.

Jesse Wilson started attending St. Mark’s one year ago, and this past spring he was baptized at the Easter Vigil. In this video, he offers his faith story, as well as how St. Mark’s helps him grow in Christ.

Many of you have seen me serving as an acolyte or in some other capacity at our Sunday High Mass or at Evensong, or during one of the many other beautiful services we celebrate here on feast days throughout the church year.

In this Sunday’s gospel Jesus declares himself to be the bread of life. As many of you know, bread is one of my favorite foods (and one of the few things you will see me eat at any parish potluck or shared meal). It’s remarkable that from a few simple ingredients (flour, water, yeast) comes so much variety and diversity.

My first visit to the Episcopal Church was at St Mark's for Wayne Yoshigai's baptism over 25 years ago. I remember sitting in the pew watching my friend Wayne dressed in a white robe, standing in a cast iron tub and having water poured over him. Wow!

I love all of the arts - sculpture, ceramics, painting, music, all of the arts. There are Medieval paintings by the great masters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries that depict a very peculiar theme. These paintings I refer to do not depict the holy family, or our Lord, or the saints, or natural landscapes, or even beautiful women or handsome men.

Sunday is the Lord's Day, not our day. It is the day upon which we "render to God the things that are His" alone. It is our privilege, as well as our plain duty, on Sunday to offer to Almighty God that tribute of loving and obedient worship by which we express how much God is worth to us.

My journey to St. Mark’s is a modern Greek religious Odyssey. Stage one begins in Illinois where I was born to a Greek Orthodox couple, the mother of which embraced her religion devoutly. She expected here four children to do likewise. We had to attend church regularly, serve as acolytes, and sing in the choir.

In this book, Archbishop Tutu shares how we learn to talk with God; how he has heard God speak to us; how to tune in to God's language; how to understand and use God's words to guide us through life. The theme of stewardship is prominent throughout the book - how we are stewards of God's creation and our interconnected relationships with all persons.

Working at a money exchange in Waikiki gives me the opportunity to observe people and the way they handle their money. Some people are proud of their fortunes and take a bit of satisfaction in seeing it displayed across the counter. Others discretely pass me an envelope and make a request not to count their money out in the open.

Though I must admit to never having been a very good student of history in school, I have, as an adult, developed a fascination for the type of living history related to us by those who actually lived it--not the names and dates in a textbook, but the oral accounts of the factory workers, soldiers, and homemakers who experienced events firsthand and can tell us what it was like to have been an ordinary person in extraordinary times.